


Nine-tenths,

by DokiDokiPeppers



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Ghoul Slavery, M/M, Rough sex eventually, Slow Build, Some light angst, Violence, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DokiDokiPeppers/pseuds/DokiDokiPeppers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[De-annoning from the Kink Meme]</p>
<p>In a world where Ghouls are viewed as human shaped animals, Investigator Amon Koutarou finds himself buying a Ghoul with all too human eyes. He is soon confronted with the startling truth that Ghouls are not at all as savage as he has been taught to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting the stage.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I decided to finally show my face for the fic I wrote on the Kmeme in response to this prompt, 
> 
> "Let's have one where ghouls are considered rare animals, and instead are kept by humans as exotic pets, guard dogs, show exhibitions...stuff like that...
> 
> Ghoul Kaneki is up for sale in the next auction...so who gets him? Arima? Hide? Amon? Tsukiyama in disguise?
> 
> Make it as smutty/dramatic/angsty as you like..."

It wasn’t every day that Amon was called from Headquarters to provide  _security_. Hell, he could count the instances on one hand.   
  
He was more of a big picture investigator. He hunted run away Ghouls, caught wild ones, and oversaw the lower branches that saw to the upkeep of the wards. So he could count the times he was demoted to merely security at a Ghoul auction on one hand.   
  
It was a bit insulting really, as security positions were usually distributed among the lower class investigators. It was a safer way of introducing inexperienced recruits to Ghouls in a close environment and was a damn fine way to instill discipline, as the security rotation was about six hours of standing still and watching snarling Ghouls be disbursed the simpering uppercrust.   
  
Even given the size of the stadium styled theater, it should only take about ten recruits to maintain order. Three placed in front of the black pedestal where the Ghouls were placed for viewing to protect the people should a Ghoul attempt bite past their muzzles. Around five strategically arranged throughout the sitting areas so the spoiled aristocrats would neither rush the platform nor attack each other when they were outbid, as they were prone to do. And finally two situated at the exit, the final line of defense.   
  
The auctions were a sort of organized chaos, a loud and putrid affair but did not warrant the attention of not only one but two higher class investigators. Amon had brought his second Akira Mado, and given the look of displeasure on her face she also did not appreciate being reduced to a breathing statue.   
  
“How much time is left?” she demanded for the fourth time in a span of twenty-five minutes. He heaved a sigh, watching her examine her cuticles. “Forty-five minutes.”   
  
Much like him, she was roiling with annoyance after a very unproductive day, to the point where it was almost palpable. He however, was much better at pushing it aside to concentrate on his duty. “This is idiotic. We have much more important things to be doing than playing mommy.” She turned her near furious gaze to him when he did not reply. “Do you want to be mommy First Class Investigator Amon?”  
  
Fighting an irritated blush, he looked down at her and sighed. Even though he was a level above her, it did not save him from her biting sass. “No Akira, I do not want to be mommy.” he mumbled, keeping his tone low so the recruits stationed a few feet away did not overhear.   
  
Given the snickers that came from his left, they had heard anyway.   
  
Before he could flash a glare in their direction the lights began to flash towards the black platform, signaling that another, and hopefully final, auction was beginning. He heard an indignant, “Finally.” From his left.   
  
_“Ladies and gentleman! It is our pleasure to present a very special Ghoul, caught by the CCG super star, Kishou Arima!_  
  
Among the excited murmurs of the crowd, with a rather wide eyed expression he glanced to Akira and make sure he had correctly heard that. Not even the lowest intern would mistake Kishou Arima. He was an  _undefeated_  hunter, and a prodigy in every right. He also did not waste his time on small fry… what kind of Ghoul was this? She seemed just as floored as he did, returning his gaze with a quirked eyebrow.   
  
The first thing he saw was a shocking head of white hair as the short Ghoul was dragged onto the platform by two larger CCG members. One of which he recognized to be his old friend, the veteran Shinohara. The older man caught his eye and offered him a small smile before returning to his duty, his large hand secured on the Ghoul's much smaller one in comparison.   
  
It didn’t seem he had much to restrain however the Ghoul was a still as a board, where most wrenched and pulled and twisted in a futile attempt to escape their human handlers. This one.. was no normal Ghoul. He watched the audience with a look that bordered on disdain, mixed with a heavy dose of annoyance. Emotion! They were not the fevered gaze of a monster he knew so well. They almost seemed human in the way they seemed to asses the room of silent humans. It was when his eyes caught Amon’s that he felt his breath escape his lungs.   
  
His eyes… they were-  
  
_“Behold, our gem of the evening, the One Eyed Ghoul!”_


	2. Curtain Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing he can't say no to those mismatched eyes, Amon takes a chance... and makes an unseen enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! Now we're current with my process on the kmeme, so we can only go up from here! Hang on kids!

In the moments following the announcement, the room became very still. No one spoke, no one moved. It seemed as though time itself had screeched to a halt as the entire amphitheater regarded the creature on the pedestal with something akin to awe.   
  
Amon included. He could actually feel his mouth hanging slightly ajar. However, at the moment he feared he didn’t have the mental capacity to close it. Not while that pair of mismatched eyes held his with indignation so profound, he felt as though he was staring at a person, a  _human being_ , whom he had personally wronged; and not a creature that would tear his flesh from his bones with a smile on its face.   
  
The harrowing silence was broken by the announcer, who had joined the Ghoul and Investigators on the stage. Amon was slightly surprised to find that she had changed costumes yet again, abandoning her last cocktail dress of sequins for what seemed to be a scantily bikini that a toddler had glued multicolored feathers to.   
  
 _“This fair haired beau comes to us from the Twentieth ward, and while we cannot guarantee his approximate age, we do know for certain that he is between the ages of eighteen to twenty!”_  she cried, making a slow circle around the bound Ghoul.  
  
To his surprise the Ghoul did not take his eyes off the crowded room to watch her, deeming her as insignificant. And now that Amon was watching his eyes, he seemed to be assessing not the crowd, but the walls.   
  
‘Clever.’ He thought, absently standing a bit straighter as his gaze flicked over himself and Akira. ‘One exit and I can guarantee you will not get past us.’ Secretly, he hoped that he would try, even given the frankly hilarious advantage they held.  
  
He had never fought a Ghoul who had eyes like that… and found himself wondering what it would be like to fight against a coherent creature of unadulterated power.   
  
 _“He is in excellent physical condition, albeit a little bruised from his scrabble with Arima. Next time we’ll make sure we send him a fragile sticker to watch the merchandise~”_  Oh, that had to be the worst one all evening. How he hated these desperate attempts at humor.   
  
After a rather stagnant pause waiting for laughter, she moved on when she found that she would receive none. Reaching her hand out, she yanked the black hooding type garment up to around his collar bone, and Amon could have sworn several people in the audience gasped.   
  
Himself included.   
  
The one eyed Ghoul was wearing some sort of… leather suit which seemed more appropriate on some sort of vigilante than on a Ghoul. But it did him many favors, as his rather trim but muscled figure was on full display. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Amon could see skin towards the bottom of his waist… an open back?  
  
His breath caught in his throat. The suit he wore like a second skin was designed for quick and easy access to his Kagune.   
  
This Ghoul was single handedly rewriting all that he had ever been taught about Ghouls. Critical thought, lucid thought process that Amon could clearly see with only his eyes as an indicator and self-awareness to gauge the threat of a room of humans he could rip through like paper.   
  
He was reeling, and had apparently made some sort of noise because Akira had turned her head towards him and fixed him with a haughty smirk. “What?” he grumbled, flushing to his ears. “Nothing. He’s charming… if you’re into that.” She replied, in her self-satisfied tone that only reared its head when she was sure of something.   
  
And damn her Mado intuition, because when she was sure of something it was always true.   
  
“I’m not, I don’t-“ she turned her eyes to him and quirked a brow. Immediately, he shut his mouth. “Thought so. I won’t think any less of you Amon, plenty of Investigators have a Ghoul or two.”  
  
She was right; many he knew personally had at least one. It wasn’t against company law, nor was it even frowned upon. In fact, one of his teachers had brought in one of his Ghouls during his training to show the weak points on their bodies. It was only practical.  
  
This Ghoul however… Amon would never subject him to that sort of treatment. _Something_  about him was unique, special. Something to be protected, treasured. He wanted to  _speak_  to this strange doppelganger of humanity. Hear his story.   
  
Amon wasn’t sure when his good judgment had abandoned him, but in its absence a burning desire took root. He would bring this Ghoul home with him. Feeling something jab his hand, he glanced down to find that Akira had shoved a number into his palm. For once, he was glad for her insolence and flashed her a relieved albeit embarrassed smile. She merely smirked and returned her eyes to the platform.   
  
Fingering the number in his hand, twelve, he readied himself to be the first to bid when she announced the opening price.   
  
As the announcer opened her mouth, utter bedlam erupted.  
  
“Twenty thousand!” Cried a woman dripping with gemstones from the audience thoroughly shocking Amon. Never had a bidder offered the price before the opening price was announced. It was considered uncouth, but the previously rigid audience did not seem to give a damn as she was quickly followed by counter offers.   
  
Gathering his voice, he announced his own bid, “Twenty-five thousand!” in his strong voice. Not two seconds later was he outbid by a brunette man in a slick black suit. “Forty-five thousand!”  
  
Amon knew him; he was a proxy bidder for the higher ups in the CCG.   
  
And that bid, it was quite the price gap! Who was he bidding for?! Who could possibly be that comfortable to drop such money in the beginning of the auction, and who would be so aggressive?  
  
“That’s Tenshiro from the elite squads.” Akira announced, echoing his thoughts. “Who’s that prick bidding for?” She murmured, watching the frenzy with a look in her eyes that bordered on interest. She jammed her elbow into his ribs, and whispered fiercely when he opened his mouth to voice his discontent, “Outbid him or you’ll lose the Ghoul.”   
  
The thought alone made his heart clench, though he knew the situation was getting fiscally out of hand. As a first class investigator he made a sizable salary, but at this point this Ghoul was quickly becoming more expensive than his  _car_.  
  
Looking up to raise his number, he happened to meet the gaze of the Ghoul once more. He had quickly gone from a look of utter disdain to one of sullen fatigue. ‘Resigning himself to his fate…’ the thought made Amon both very melancholy and determined.  
  
‘I will give you a life that you deserve!’ he hoped his intentions shone as clearly through his eyes as the Ghouls, and given by the rather baffled blink he received in return, he was certain they did.   
  
“Fifty thousand!” he shouted, catching the brown haired Investigators attention. He sent Amon a look that promised pain if he continued; when Amon didn’t relent he turned and cried “Fifty-five thousand!”   
  
Before Amon could place his next bid, the audience seemed to crumble into turmoil. It seemed the tension in the air was enough to send the more aggressive attendants into a tizzy as two women had begun to fight, followed by their husbands as they rushed to defend their wives honor and quickly the fight between two families spiraled into most of the audiences.   
  
He caught a glance of the recruit positioned on the outermost edge of the audience spring into action, inadvertently knocking Tenshiro to the ground.  
  
Spotting his chance, he raised his number high above his head and bellowed, “Sixty thousand!”  
  
A pregnant pause followed, the fighting the only sounds permeating the air. And amidst the chaos, he heard the announcer cheerfully pierce the quite loud amphitheater.   
  
 _"Going once for sixty thousand!"_  
  
A heartbeat.  
  
Tenshiro was still on the ground, and given the way he clutched his face someone had stepped on him. He wasn’t getting up any time soon.   
  
 _"Going twice!"_  
  
A breath.  
  
It seemed the rest of the room had turned their eyes to the escalating fight in the middle of the room, and had been stunned into silence.  
  
 _“Sold to the handsome Investigator!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon you opportunistic shit~
> 
> The next work will be out soon!


	3. "Necessary" evil?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I apologize for how long this chapter took me to crank out, this past couple of days have been rather crazy and I haven't had any time to sit down and actually write. Thank you to everyone who left comments, messages and kudos, I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Finally we start cooking with gas!

The week to follow the auction was… turbulent to say the least.

First came the money order to pay for his rather life changing impulse buy… of a living creature… that could rip his throat out while he slept. Then the regret of digging himself neck deep in debt to the company where he spent more than ninety hours a week.

A night or two was spent awake and pacing as doubts plagued his thoughts. Was this a mistake?

 Finally after that had passed, he felt resolve. The same resolve that had taken him by the throat in a crowded room where only two beings mattered. Those feelings had only been over the first three days!

Soon after, the cosmetic changes in his life followed.

Before the purchased Ghoul can be delivered, a lengthy list of regulations would have to be observed to ensure an errant Ghoul wouldn’t simply kill their captor and escape into society.

The CCG sent crews of workers to ‘ _Ghoul proof_ ’ his apartment, as per the statue of owning a Ghoul. His windows were replaced with Plexiglass, strong enough to withstand a bomb in close proximity, a worker informed him while she installed them when he asked.

“Don’t want a renegade on your conscience.” She added, rather cheerfully despite being a member of the CCG herself. He fixed her with a stern look and continued on his way.

His door was outfitted with a top grade security mechanism so that any one entering or exiting would have to scan their handprints and enter a code to open it. If the door was forced, the mechanism would collapse within it and lock the door while simultaneously alerting a guard in the CCG. Investigators would be dispatched accordingly.

The same woman who had so callously joked with him approached him while the door was being installed. “Where do you want to keep it?” she inquired, sparing a glance around his sparse apartment.

Modest accommodations had always suited his needs; Amon’s apartment was only a two room and one bath. Relationships came second to his job so he had never really had to worry about a spouse or even close friends to entertain. His second room had functioned as his personal gym/storage up until then.

He made sure to only keep the essentials with his equipment and sold the rest to go towards his money order. Boxes of clothes and other such junk were relocated or sold as well, leaving only a 12x10 room and a small black bookshelf of his mother’s books. He could practically feel her rolling her in grave at the _thought_ of parting with her first editions.

‘Rest her soul.’ He thought, as he opened the door for the petite worker. “Will this do?” He asked, looking around the room restlessly. It felt too small… would he have room to move about once it contained a bed? If he was cramped it would lead to misplaced aggression or even malnutrition.

She inspected the room with a look of unease.  Finally she said, “It’s big. You want to give it so much space? We could easily fit a crate in the corner of your living room. I’ve seen the Ghoul you bought, he ain’t so tall, wouldn’t even need a thirty-four inch.”

_What?_

He simply stared, wondering if he had heard her right. Thirty- four inches?! That would barely graze the top of his thigh. There is no way any creature besides a medium sized dog would fit into it comfortably.

Then he took a deep breath, and knew he would regret it the moment he uttered it but asked anyway, “What would _you_ suggest?”

She jotted down a few notes in her yellow pad before turning her head to smile at him. “I keep mine in a forty-eight inch crate. She’s on the tall side, but a bit of pushing don’t hurt them. It’s easier to watch them if they can’t turn too much, don’t put your back to a predator y’know?” She then returned to her pad, as if what she said wasn’t _completely atrocious_.

That… that was cruelty right? It had to be, she had to be some sort of degenerate like people who fought dogs. After he gave her his firm yes on the space of the room, he left to find another worker.

He chose one of the engineers installing the new door. “Do you keep Ghouls?” He asked, feeling a sense of dread in his stomach as he approached. The man turned and lowered his goggles, nodding politely to him. “Two males.”

“Where do you keep them?”

That seemed to pacify him, as he smiled a little easier. He probably thought Amon was looking for advice for his first high profile pet. “I installed my own cages after one escaped, kind of like what you see in a morgue? Two steel cages on top of each other sealed with a pane of steel. Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile!” he chuckled, returning to his job when Amon made no further attempt at conversation.

Frankly, he was worried what he would say.

He fled to his room and sat heavily on the edge of his bed, lowering his head into his hands, scrubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

The image of the one eyed Ghoul, proud and perceptive, crammed into a cage suited for a Shih Tzu. His intelligent eyes looking at him with contempt and discomfort, not being able to turn his body….or worse shoved into a tomb of harsh metal. Never again to see the light of day.

Suddenly all the doubt he had felt a few days prior returned with a vengeance, and Amon was left feeling emotionally and almost physically drained. Releasing another sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and smoothed his comforter, sparing a longing look at his bed. It seemed all he could feel the past few days were listless and melancholy. This issue with the boarding of the Ghoul… his Ghoul was certainly not helping.

He returned to the workers with only one thought on his mind. Was this the life he was expected to provide? A life of agony and mistreatment? Or was this the life that he would be _forced_ to implement as a necessity to ensure his own safety?

Amon surely hoped it would not be, not only for the Ghoul soon to be under his care, but for his own heart as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't quite ever what they seem, and hardly ever what we dream.
> 
> Amon gets a look at how pet Ghouls are kept, and we are kept waiting in the wings for the arrival of Kaneki!


	4. Consignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I don't even know what to say. You guys are amazing, so kind and so supportive and the credit for this chapter is completely all of you folks. I sincerely appreciate all the Kudos and comments, and hopefully I won't hit another writers block as bad as this one was! But hey, this chapter is twice as long as my others, so maybe something good did come out of it?

As a natural creature of habit, Amon found he could not break his schedule the morning of his _‘delivery’_ even under the incredible amount of distress he was in.

He began his morning at five forty-five A.M with his morning shower. Slipping a towel through his hair he kept his eyes averted, focusing on his bare feet instead of the monstrosity the CCG had built in his Ghoul’s soon to be room.

Thinking back on it, he was ashamed he had let them do it, as it was terrible in a way he could only describe as medieval. And much as he tried to ignore it, he could not squash the feelings of dread when he laid his eyes upon it.

At first he had simply shut the door, out of sight out of mind. But the past two days he had kept it open, begrudgingly trying to familiarize himself with it. If his Ghoul was to live in it, with all its spiked spitefulness, he would have to get used to seeing it. It only seemed fair.

The next twenty minutes he lost himself in the routine of making breakfast, prepping his morning smoothie and taking his vitamins. By six o’ five, he was dressed in a pair of loose workout shorts and a hoodie, and beginning his brisk warm up jog down the street. After falling into his rhythm, he broke into a run much faster than he had done this past week.

At six fifteen he had already passed the coffee shop on the corner two blocks over.

‘Strange,’ he thought how something as simple as a run did _so much_ for his nerves. In fact, he felt so invigorated; he didn’t bother to stop for a breather. He ran his two miles with time to spare.

Feeling pleasantly refreshed, and sure that he wasn’t giving off any sort of odor, he stopped in the coffee shop on his way home.

This had become somewhat of a routine for him, to treat himself to coffee and a small pastry when he did well on his runs. Subsequently, he had become rather friendly with the staff.

The owner, Mr. Yoshimura sent him a warm smile as he walked in the door.

This was the best time to come in, Amon had found. Anteiku was well known for quality coffee so the lines could sometimes be long. Early in the morning it was little to no wait, and this particular morning there was only one other guest who was seated by the bookshelf in the far corner.

“Amon, this is a surprise. I’m quite sure that I _just_ saw you round the corner on your run. Usually you take it a bit easier on Fridays.” The older man was currently pouring what seemed to be a Café au lait.

With a curt nod, he approached the counter. “I’ve had quite a bit on my mind as of late. Today it felt like less than a mile.” He confessed, scanning the dessert cooler.

With a chuckle, Mr. Yoshimura handed off the steaming saucer to his teenage waitress as she emerged from the back room. Those two always seemed to operate in perfect synchrony, never speaking merely predicting the others movements. Really, they would make excellent investigators. Even with Mr. Yoshimura’s advanced age.

He had told them this before, and they had merely given him apologetic smiles. The blunette wanted to be a doctor, and Mr. Yoshimura was married to his shop.

“How’s school?” He inquired, trying to recall her name as she passed. Honestly it slipped so much he should probably feel bad. “Good.” She replied as the handed off the cup to the customer in the corner, who he now noticed had a rather strange color of hair. Not dissimilar to hers, but more of an indigo.

Upon further inspection, he notices the man’s bizarrely clothed shoulders were shaking.

_Crying?_

Or perhaps silently laughing at something he was looking at, given the fact that the waitress showed no signs of something being wrong. She was already behind the counter by the time he looked back.

“I have trouble with English.” She admitted with a small but guarded smile.

He nodded once. “It’s a complex language, both to write and speak. “ By the time he had pulled his wallet from his pocket, Mr. Yoshimura had already slid a to-go cup across the counter, steaming from the little hole in the lid.

With a small grateful smile, he slid his charge card across the counter.

“Luckily English isn’t a required subject to go towards my degree.” Touka, so said her nametag, swiped his card through her register then held it back out for him along with his receipt.

“Really? I was under the impression English was required for any form of medical practitioner.” He replied conversationally, sliding his card home and picking up his coffee.

“Not for pediatrics.”  Deeming the conversation over, Touka returned to the back room after scooping up the soiled coffee grounds. When meeting her the first time, he had been almost offended by this behavior, but now that he was partnered with Akira he was quite used to it.

He flashed Mr. Yoshimura a small smile and began to turn towards the door, turning back in confusion when something was pressed against his knuckles. Turning his eyes down, he found that the culprit was a small to go box.

“To help ease your mind.” The old man winked, returning to his duties.

Touched, Amon gave him a small but grateful bow. “As always, you’re too kind Mr. Yoshimura.” Taking the box in hand, Amon checked his watch and found that he was falling a bit behind schedule and bid Mr. Yoshimura another sincere thank you before exiting the shop and falling into a brisk walk.

Curiosity however, got the better of him as he passed the window where the eccentrically dressed man was sitting. He found that he had been correct; the man seemed to be openly weeping into a small handkerchief, hunched forward over the table.

Amon politely turned his eyes from him as he continued his quick walk home.

He couldn’t stop himself from wondering though, what would bring a man to openly cry in public?

Due to a bit of foot traffic on the sidewalks, by the time Amon returned home he was a full twenty minutes behind schedule. Hurriedly depositing his coffee, dessert, wallet and phone on the kitchen counter before making a beeline to the bathroom.

Though he was never one to take long showers, he made sure this one was nothing more that perfunctory. And as he was wrapping his towel around his waist, absolute dread filled his veins.

There were voices coming from the living room.

He absolutely could not leave the bathroom in a towel when two fellow investigators and his Ghoul stood in the living room. With no other option, Amon resigned himself to pulling his boxers and workout shorts back on. Unfortunately when he stepped out of the shower, he had soaked his hoodie so he would have to go bare chested. But better bare chested then bare all together.

And as he reached out for the door knob, he found himself frozen.

The week of purgatory was finally over, and his change of life was quite literally standing just in the next room. A week of preparation could have done nothing for this.

A knock on the door jarred him from his thoughts. _“Amoooooooon~?”_ came a breathy and high voice, followed by a series of rhythmic raps on the wood.

Amon heaved a sigh through his nose.

Juuzo Suzuya, Shinohara’s protégé.

“Juuzo come away from there, that’s rude.” Followed the voice of none other than Shinohara himself.  Immediately Amon felt a pang of relief. Shinohara was a good man, and wouldn’t think badly of him for his tardiness.

Gathering himself, he pulled the door open to be met with the smaller white haired investigator pressed into his chest. Immediately tensing, he sent the boy a look of pure disdain when he looked up at him with unbridled mischief.

“Whoa, I thought you were big with clothes _on._ Are you all around huge~?” Already sensing where this was going, Amon swats Juuzo’s hand away before he could pull the elastic waist of his shorts and pants him.

“Juuzo, we’ve talked about this. If you can’t behave, you can’t come with me on deliveries anymore.” As the smaller boy sent him a pout and slunk off, Amon followed his path with his eyes until they landed on Shinohara. Or rather what Shinohara was currently securing.

A braided chain sat in his hand, firmly attached to a thick steel rung looped on an even thicker leather collar attached to the neck of his one-eyed Ghoul.

After a thoroughly exhausting week of waiting, here he was standing barefoot in his living room.

And though he had gone through this scenario at least a dozen times, all of his carefully laid plans were forfeit when that pair of mismatched eyes caught his own.

They stared, only for a moment before one-eye tore his gaze from Amon’s hungry one and raked his eyes over his over Amon’s form.

‘Analyzing me.’ Amon thought dazedly, ‘Assessing how much of a threat I am.’

When his steely eyes returned back to his, Amon must have made a noise because he drew Shinohara’s attention from chiding his subordinate. “You alright Koutarou?” he asked, sounding almost wary.  Snapping his head away, Amon managed a nod.

Reaching his hand out, Juuzo drew the chain from Shinohara’s fist as he stepped to Amon.

“Sorry to barge in, I called a couple of times and when you didn’t answer I assumed you weren’t home. Better to invade your privacy a bit then let your neighbors see.” He gave Amon a warm handshake and a sheepish smile.

“It’s fine. It’s my own fault, I was late this morning.” He managed, with no small amount of effort, to keep his eyes on Shinohara. Even as over his shoulder he caught a glance of Juuzo dragged the chained Ghoul into his kitchen.

“Did he give you any trouble?” he asked, hating the idea of inconveniencing his friend.

Shinohara rolled his shoulders back, seemingly working out a bit of stiffness. Or perhaps an anxious tic? Shinohara wasn’t an easily read man.

“Not as much as the common Ghoul. Yours was a whole different experience.” He replied, sounding a bit tired but not exasperated. Quirking an eyebrow, Amon pressed. “What do you mean?”

Glancing back towards the kitchen, the older man gestured for Amon to follow. They crossed the room in an effort to keep their conversation from prying ears. When they were nearly out of his living room, Shinohara heaved a small sigh and crossed his arms.

“The Ghouls I am used too behave like cornered animals. They growl, they thrash, bite at their muzzles, etcetera. Your Ghoul Amon… he was complacent up until he saw the van. Then he just plopped down, like a spoiled child. I had to _pick him up and carry him_ into the car. After I strapped him in, he started acting odd. Clutching his stomach, moaning and groaning, I thought he was getting carsick… and I couldn’t help it I felt bad for him.”

He flashed a glance over his shoulder towards the kitchen before he continued.

“So I broke protocol and started unstrapping him while the car was moving, just to set him closer to a window. In a second he was out of my hands, and had broken the window. Amon he was halfway out before Juuzo got a hold on him.”

Amon felt as though he had been punched in the gut. What he was insinuating, there was no way…

It seemed his face gave him away as Shinohara gave him a grave nod. “He acted sick knowing that I would give him an opportunity to escape. He _read_ me, and in all of years I’ve never felt so uneasy around a Ghoul. There’s more to him then-”

Suddenly Shinohara’s beeper went off, starling both men into jumping back from each other. Upon checking it, Shinohara sighed.

“Running late seems to be today’s theme. We have another delivery to make.” Turning towards him, Shinohara set a hand on his shoulders and squeezed. “Watch yourself Amon.”

Uttering a soft thank you, Amon led him back to the kitchen where he found Juuzo shoveling his dessert from Anteiku, key lime pie it seemed, into his wide mouth. And judging from the smears on one-eye's muzzle, he had tried to feed him too.

With a deeper sigh than before Shinohara took the chain from his messy hand. “Apologize to Amon. You’ll be buying him another piece of pie before the day is out.”

At the pleading eyes and childish pout he received, Amon let his irritation die. “It’s fine. It probably would have gone to waste here anyway.” He seized his dish towel, and before he knew what he was doing he had taken one-eye's chin in his hand and gently wiped the smeared confection off his muzzle.

Only when he looked up into those piercing eyes did he realize what he had done, and immediately dropped both the dish towel and the Ghouls face.

Either not noticing or intentionally not heeding his discomfort, Juuzo pat his muscled stomach joyfully. “Then you’re very welcome Amon~! I’m happy to keep you from getting pudgy! And you,” And quick as a headman’s axe ,before himself or Shinohara could stop him, Juuzo seized the rung of one-eyes collar and yanked him down to meet his eyes.

Both men stood frozen as Suzuya murmured in the tenderest tone he’d ever heard from the young man, “You behave. No more jumping out of windows, or I’ll cut your legs off.” With his threat looming like a funnel cloud, Juuzo leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on one-eyes nose then swiftly released him and happily strode from the room.

Amon desperately looked to Shinohara for answers, and the man merely shrugged. “They bonded while he was being processed.”

And it seemed true, because if the Ghoul was ruffled by the encounter he didn’t show it. Amon watched as he turned his head and wiped his nose upon the sleeve of his rough looking garments, then turned to watch him in return.

Amon nearly jumped when the cold metal chain was pressed into his hand along with a key, presumably for the lock that secured the Ghoul to the chain.

When Amon turned to speak to Shinohara he found that the man had already made his way to the door to follow his subordinate. Before he left, he gave Amon a bow and a hard gaze which he could not tell was actually meant for him. “Remember what I said.”

Returning the bow, Amon gave him a nod. “Thank you Shinohara.”

The older man somehow forced a smile, and then set his eyes upon the Ghoul. And perhaps it wasn’t just him who became lost in those eyes, as Shinohara was motionless for probably a minute. And both men could only stare in shock as the Ghoul bowed his head, albeit briefly, before returning to his mix of regal and dangerous stance.

And while Amon stood in slacked jaw astonishment as Shinohara retuned the bow and briskly left his apartment.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We saw some friends, saw some enemies, and saw a shit ton of Amon being bewitched. What else could there be in this lifetime~?


End file.
